'Tak care o' 't, sir; tak care o' 't. William Walker said there was a jar o' drained hinney i' the basket; an' the bairns wad miss 't sair gin 't war spult.'
'I will take good care of it,' responded the doctor.
He delivered the basket, returned to the carriage, and told the coachman to drive home.
'Whaur are ye takin' me till?' exclaimed Shargar. 'Willie hasna payed me for the parcel.'
'Never mind Willie. I'll pay you,' said the doctor.
'But Robert wadna like me to tak siller whaur I did nae wark for 't,' objected Shargar. 'He's some pernickety (precise)—Robert. But I'll jist say 'at ye garred me, doctor. Maybe that 'll saitisfee him. An' faith! I'm queer aboot my left fin here.'
'We'll soon set it all right,' said the doctor.
When they reached his house he led the way to his surgery, and there put the broken limb in splints. He then told Johnston to help the patient to bed.
'I maun gang hame,' objected Shargar. 'What wad Robert think?'
'I will tell him all about it,' said the doctor.